


will u b mine?

by wolfgun



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (with shiro coughs), F/M, Gift Giving, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, anyway, basically Allura finds out about it and wants to do All the activities, just a cute Valentine's Day adventure, mainly klance tho jsyk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-09-24 14:02:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9749195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfgun/pseuds/wolfgun
Summary: Keith bursts into the commons room, and didn’t know whether to be relieved or outright irritated that there was an obvious lack of danger present; especially following such an outburst. Allura waved at him enthusiastically from the couch, and his eyebrows scrunched up, though not unkindly. Pidge looked rather bored beside her.“Keith! You paladins did not tell me there is a specific day on Earth dedicated to expressing your compassion!” Allura was definitely excited-- which only made Keith more confused.“What?”“Valentine’s Day,” Pidge explained, and Keith let out a small “Oh."





	1. Just let me-

Keith started as Allura’s voice came blasting out over the castleship’s comms, almost dropping his knife and slicing his finger open in the process. He sighed in annoyance, licking up the small sliver of blood beginning to seep from the cut.

 

“Paladins! Please converge in the commons room, it’s very urgent! Hurry!” She sounded very out of breath and charged up--though he couldn’t really tell if it was charged up as in _excited_ or charged as in _upset._ He shrugged on his jacket and flew out the door regardless, still lapping at his finger.

 

He bursts into the common room, and didn’t know whether to be relieved or outright irritated that there was an obvious lack of danger present. Allura waved at him enthusiastically from the couch, and his eyebrows scrunched up, though not unkindly. Pidge looked rather bored beside her, and Lance entered the room opposite him.

 

“Keith! You paladins did not tell me there is a specific day on Earth dedicated to expressing your compassion!” Allura was definitely excited-- which only made Keith more confused.

 

“What?”

 

“Valentine’s Day,” Pidge explained, and Keith let out a small “Oh,” but it was drowned out by Lance’s shout.

 

“What? Is it Valentine’s Day already?” Lance groaned, wiping his hands dramatically down his face. “Man, I don’t have anything prepared for you, Allura…” Keith rolled his eyes and took a seat on the floor, which was technically the back of the couch (but not really), and set his feet on the cushions.

 

“What is it? Another attack!?” Hunk explodes into the area, followed by Shiro, who looks worried for a brief moment, but then just shakes his head at the group. Coran pops out from behind Keith, making him jump, and joins Allura and Pidge.

 

“You Earthlings have something like a love day, apparently! That’s very sweet, if I do say so myself.” He stroked his orange mustache and nodded. “I remember on Altea, we used to have such a holiday. But it was more akin to just meeting with all the people you were sworn enemies with or hated unconditionally and declaring a temporary truce for a short time.”

 

“What? So you’d go to someone like say, Zarkon, and be like, ‘Hey, I hate you a lot but not today for some reason so let’s be cool for the next day?’” Lance mirrored Keith, moving to sit on the opposite side of the couch. “That sounds fucked.”

 

“Language,” Shiro grumbled from somewhere behind them, but Allura shrugged coolly, addressing Lance.

 

“That’s just how it was. Though, no one on Altea had done something so vile and malicious to the entire galaxies yet, not to mention genocide.” Lance gulped visibly.

 

“Ah, yeah…”

 

“So like a… frenemy day?” Hunk frowned. “That’s weird.”

 

“So is dedicating a day to show someone you care about that you actually do care about them, as if you do not show how much you care about them every other day of your lives,” Coran countered, and Hunk narrowed his eyes.

 

“Touché.”

 

“Anyway,” Allura said, clearing her throat after a brief silence, “I think it’s very nice. We should do such a thing.” She grew increasingly excited. “Pidge said that you all give each other candy and cute little talismans as symbols of love!”

 

“Uh, that’s--” Lance starts, hesitantly, but Keith interrupted.

 

“It’s really only for people who are romantically involved,” he states\d, bluntly, and Allura’s face drooped.

 

“Oh… I see.” She looked down at the floor, face twisted in thought, and Keith immediately felt like an ass. Everyone turned to look at him.

 

“Er, well…” He shifted awkwardly, trying to backtrack. “I mean, it’s mostly for them, but in modern times friends and family would use the day to express their, uh--platonic love for each other… It’s just--” Keith frowned, rolling his lip between his teeth. “What exactly do we have here that we can use for that?”

 

“Oh,” Allura breathed, brightening, “in that case, I have just the thing!”

 

{--+--}

 

It’s amazing how resourceful Allura was, Keith found himself thinking, as she suggested things for them to make and do to not only celebrate Valentine’s Day, but also ‘forge stronger relationships and compassion between one another.’ She looked specifically at Keith and then Lance when she said that, and Keith would be lying if he said he wasn’t embarrassed.

 

Especially since Lance had stared at him, long and hard, for a full twenty minutes afterwards.

 

In short, Allura had devised several different ‘stations’ of events--cooking, making cards, and even a ‘secret santa’ kind of thing, except for Valentine’s Day.

 

They drew names (which was really just Pidge setting up an algorithm and everyone rolling to see who they got), and then set off for the day. They had until the end of the day to give their presents to one another.

 

And of course, Keith got fucking _Lance._

 

Judging by Pidge’s wicked grin after he finished rolling, he had been set up. Unsurprising, really, since the universe (and Pidge) just loved to mess with him, but he was really kinda done at the moment what with all the stress of saving the universe and all that good stuff.

 

And now, on top of it, he had to think about something to _make_ and _give_ to _Lance_ of all people in the goddamn universe--which, you know, wasn’t all that bad until you realize that Keith was pretty sure Lance hated him and vice versa.

 

If Keith reasoned with himself logically, the situation was probably some kind of huge-ass misinterpretation or miscommunication between the two of them that needed to be resolved, but honestly, Keith didn’t much feel like expending that much energy. Besides, what was he going to say? 'Oh, Lance, we act like we hate each other and we fight a lot and you annoy be sometimes but also be my friend'? No way.

 

So in short, this sucked.

 

He walked into the kitchen, where Hunk was having a grand time making cookies and small tarts--of course they didn’t have any earth ingredients, but some things like flour and eggs were universal constants. Hunk was currently adding an odd, bright red fruit to a sugar mixture--it looked like a sort of berry, but they were translucent like caviar.

 

“What’cha making?” Keith sidled up to him and leaned on the counter, watching as Hunk expertly dashed the tarts with some kind of powder.

 

“I’m making some sugar cookies and rodish tarts!” Keith pretended he didn’t hear the “hopefully,” he muttered under his breath.

 

“Is that weird red thing a rodish?” Keith picked up one of the fruits in his hand, rolling it around. It was kinda slimy.

 

“Yep,” Hunk says. “Coran said they’re really good when baked, so…” Keith made a face.

 

“Not that I doubt your superior cooking skills, Hunk, but trusting Coran about something like that… ?”

 

“Oh, I know, don’t worry--but Coran’s really good at identifying foods, just not putting them together.” Keith nodded, and impulsively popped the rodish in his mouth. It made his mouth pucker up; the sourness of the fruit overpowered all of his other senses, and he wheezed. Hunk laughed. “You know, sometimes you do shit like that, and it just reminds me that you really are a great fit for Red.” Keith glared lightly as he marched over and gulped down some water.

 

“Whatever. I took one for the team.”

 

“How’d it taste?” Hunk wiped off his hands and then stuck the sheet of tarts in the oven. Keith stuck his tongue out.

 

“...It’s probably going to be really good in a tart,” he mused, “but definitely not for regular eating.” Hunk smiled.

 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

Pidge and Coran walked in, just then, and they eyed the bowl of rodish. Pidge adjusted their glasses, and gave Hunk a pointed look.

 

“Did he eat it?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“That’s 20, Coran.” Pidge smirked evilly, and held out their hand towards the older man. Coran sighed dramatically, and begrudgingly lifted his hand to place something in Pidges palm.

 

“Seriously?” Keith asked, too amused to be angry, and Pidge’s grin grew wider.

 

“Thanks, Keith; you’re a real wingman.” They waved around a bill and exited the kitchen, no doubt going to add that to their stash, and Keith just laughed, downing the rest of his water. Coran pouted in the background.

 

“How dare you… that was my last 20.”

 

“Sorry, Coran. How many times has that been--you losing to Pidge?” Hunk started rolling dough for another batch of cookies, pulling out a heart-shaped cutter, and Coran’s mustache twitched.

 

“...It’s not about quantity that matters, boys, it’s--” Keith cut him off, leaning in closer.

 

“How many times, Coran?”

 

“...83.” Keith burst out laughing, and even Hunk seemed astonished by that number. “It’s--! You youngsters just don’t understand--”

 

“Coran,” Keith gasped, trying to catch his breath, “Pidge literally stood up to that great universal Sphinx god in an intellectual match, and you’re _betting_ with them?” Coran was growing more unamused by the minute. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, maybe to defend himself, Pidge walked back in.

 

“Hey, it’s not my fault Keith’s really predictable,” Pidge said, shrugging, and Keith’s smile turned slightly crooked.

 

“Do you two bet on me that often?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“It’s not fair, because Red is literally the most _unpredictable_ of you all," Coran huffed, eyeing a cooling tart and earning a smack from Hunk when he reached for it.

 

“He's predictably unpredictable," Pidge declared. "Oh well, looks like you’re going to have to spend some _quality time_ with Keith, Coran,” they added in a borderline sing-song voice, and Keith’s face instantly went neutral.

 

“I have to go,” Keith said, “right now, immediately.” He slid away from the table, just as Coran nodded.

 

“You’re right, Pidge! In fact, I should take you on a full tour of the facilities right now, Keith--” Coran turned around, but Keith had already escaped, booking it down the hall. Pidge and Hunk couldn’t contain their laughter anymore, and Coran frowned at the two of them.

 

“Absolutely terrible,” he muttered, rolling his mustache between his fingers.

 

{--+--}

 

Keith didn’t stop running until he almost crashed straight into Lance--who was carrying two mugs of _something._ He pivoted at the last second, narrowly avoiding an entire mess and skidding to a stop a moment later. They stared at each other with wide eyes for a moment, just blinking.

 

“What the fuck, man? What was that?” Keith panted slightly, leaning down with his palms on his knees, and sighed.

 

 _“That,”_ he said, “was Pidge telling Coran that we needed to have some _quality bonding time.”_

 

“Oh.” Lance looks Keith over, and suddenly slightly self-conscious, he straightens. “Well, uh--Coran is a good guy, you know. He may be a bit of a windbag, but he means well. You should just chill with him sometime.” Keith bit his lip, nodding.

 

“Yeah, I know all that, but…”

 

“But?” Keith frowned, brow furrowing, and Lance made to cross his arms, before he realized he had two mugs in each hand. He settled for just narrowing his eyes, an edge creeping into his tone. “You don’t like Coran or something?” Keith huffed, a bit annoyed at that implication.

 

“Way to screw up my words. That’s not what I meant.”

 

“Then what did you mean? Because nobody on this castleship seems to get you.” Keith bristled, then, and curled his lip.

 

“Just because I handle things in a way you don’t _get_ doesn’t mean I don’t care about anything,” he bit out, and then glanced down at the mugs, anger flaring a little more intensely. “I hope you already know, but Shiro is planning something for Allura. So I wouldn’t disturb them.” Lance scoffed, a bit of an emotion flashing across his face.

 

“Uh, this isn’t for _Allura,”_ he gestured widely, even as the liquid inside the mugs sloshed around, threatening to spill. “This is--it’s for Hunk,” he finished lamely, and Keith just rolled his eyes.

 

“Whatever,” he muttered, and turned to walk away. He got halfway down the hall until Lance was catching up, and he looked over curiously.

 

“The--uh--this is hot chocolate,” he started, and Keith took a breath, leaning over to look inside the mugs.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Uh, yeah, dude--I _made_ it.” Lance takes an experimental sip, as if unsure, but then nods. “Yeah, definitely hot chocolate.”

 

“Red... space... hot chocolate.”

 

“Something like that.”

 

The walked for a bit longer, until they reached the common room--and door hissed softly open as the two of them stepped inside. It was supposed to be the room where they could make cards, but at the moment, Shiro and Allura were sitting on the couch, talking. Lance raised his mug in hand to greet them, but then Keith quickly pulled his arm down and wheeled around, letting the door close behind them.

 

“What the hell, Keith!” Keith just shushed him and tugged on his wrist, guiding them further down the hallway, until they were definitely out of earshot.

 

“Allura and Shiro were in there,” Keith said simply, as if that was an ample explanation. Lance sputtered slightly, shifting his grip so he was carrying two mugs in one hand.

 

“So what!? We see them in the control room together _all the time,”_ he emphasizes, gesturing down the hall. “They were in the common room--they weren’t doing _anything.”_ Keith shook his head adamantly.

 

“We can’t disturb them. Shiro’s been waiting for an opening for a while--”

 

“What, is he trying to romance Allura?” He sounded like he was joking--Keith stared at Lance incredulously for a good minute, and Lance froze. “Wait, what?”

 

“... You didn’t notice?” Keith eyed the other paladin as Lance groaned, running his hand through his hair.

 

“Notice _what?”_

 

“Jesus,” Keith muttered, turning to the side. “Pidge calls _me_ bad…”

 

“So what, this entire time I’ve been flirting with Allura when actually _Shiro_ wanted to get together with her and I’ve just looked like an ass about it because Allura probably wasn’t even really interested in _me?”_ Keith raised an eyebrow, seeming surprised.

 

“Wow, I thought it’d take you a lot longer to understand--”

 

“Holy _fuck,”_ he hissed, banging his head against the wall. Keith crossed his arms and watched the exchanged with a slight frown. Lance sighed heavily, gaze flicking over to the mug in his hands; It was going to get cold.

 

“...Well,” Keith said suddenly, “I’m going to go and… see what Pidge is doing now.” He turned away, somewhat awkwardly, not really wanting to leave Lance like that but also feeling like he kind of deserved it.

 

“Wait,” Lance said suddenly, and his hand shot out to stop Keith. “Here,” he said, and placed one of the mugs in his palm.

 

“Uh--” Keith glanced at it like someone had just placed a baby alien in his palm. “Uh?”

 

“You drink it? Like this?” Lance brought his own mug up, and took a sip. Keith’s face turned slightly sour.

 

“I know how to drink,” Keith muttered, and Lance shrugged.

 

“Then do it before it gets cold.” He walked away, then, and Keith was left to stare wonderingly at the red liquid in between his palms. Sure, it had been made for Allura originally, but...

 

Something stirred in him when he took a sip--and not just because it really _did_ taste like hot chocolate.

 

{--+--}

 

“Pidge,” Keith said, barging into their lab, “help me.”

 

The smaller paladin was surrounded by their tools, laptop propped on their knees. They barely flinched at Keith’s disruption, instead continuing to tack away on their laptop.

 

“If this is about Lance’s present, you should ask Hunk.”

 

“Well, it’s--Oh, that’s a good idea. It’s related, but it’s not--”

 

“I don’t want to hear about your endeavors of love.”

 

“What--Love? That's--”

 

“The only reason I’m even vaguely celebrating this is because Allura asked me to, and I get to design a microwave for Hunk.”

 

“Uh.”

 

“I hate Valentine’s Day. So let me work in peace.”

 

“Pidge.” Keith walked up to them, and Pidge finally glanced up, brow furrowing at the mug in his hand. “I have. A. Dilemma.”

 

“What’s that?” They pointed to the mug.

 

“It’s hot chocolate.” Pidge’s eyes widened, and their project was instantly forgotten as they jumped up.

 

“What!? We have that? Where’d you get it? Let me try!” Keith held it up out of reach, and Pidge pouted as they strained. “I can climb you,” they threatened, and Keith just chuckled.

 

“Lance gave it to me,” he explained, and Pidge’s jaw dropped.

 

“But he--you?”

 

“Yeah, I know--he wanted to give it to Allura, I’m pretty sure, but then I told him about Allura and Shiro, and--”

 

“Oh my god, did he not know?” Pidge’s face split into a wide grin, and Keith nodded. “Holy shit.”

 

“Anyway, it’s really good, and it’s red, and it’s from Lance.” Pidge gave him a knowing look.

 

“And?”

 

“And…” Keith sighed, taking another sip. “It’s really good.” Another warm feeling bloomed in his chest.

 

“You said that,” Pidge pointed out, smirking.

 

“Yeah,” Keith murmured, not entirely wondering why he wanted to talk to Pidge in the first place. “It keeps making my chest feel funny.”

 

“Isn’t that just the affect Lance has on you in general?”

 

“That’s--no,” Keith stuck his tongue out at Pidge. Pidge went back to typing. “...I don’t know,” Keith admitted, and Pidge shook their head.

 

“Either way, I can’t help you--not unless you let me have a sip.” Keith sighed, rolling his eyes, but in the end, offered the mug to Pidge. They took a big mouthful, which Keith glared at them for, and looked completely smug until they gulped. “Holy shit."

 

“Right?”

 

“And it’s red?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Dude.” Pidge went to grab more, but Keith quickly yanked it away.

 

“Help me,” Keith ordered, causing Pidge to cross their arms. “I can’t think of a present.” Pidge sighed, muttering something about promises, and scratched their chin.

 

“I really do wish I could help you, but…” Pidge shrugged. “Like I said, Hunk would know better. Those two have been friends since even before the Garrison.”

 

“...Huh,” Keith said, softly, and nodded. “Alright. Thanks, Pidge.”

 

“No problem. Anything for some hot cocoa.” Keith opened the door and started to head out, but Pidge suddenly called out to him again. “Also! I do know this--Lance has a real soft spot for handmade things.” Keith frowned lightly, but nodded.

 

He waved at them through the door as it closed.

 

{--+--}

 

Hunk had a lot to say about Lance, but nothing really that would help him.

 

“...He likes a lot of stuff, dude. I don’t know. If it were me, I’d just make Lance some of his favorite food from back home, but… Well, you’re not me.” Keith sighed.

 

“Yeah, I get that and all… It’s just--difficult. I’ve never really had to get presents for anyone.”

 

“What? Really?” Keith blinked, and then remembered that they all probably forgot.

 

“Oh, yeah. My parents died when I was young--I mean, I always had Shiro, but… uh, not again until recently.” Hunk let out  a small, “Ah, I see,” and turned back around to brush some kind of oil over a few heart-shaped cookies.

 

"Lance loves the beach--anything involving the sea, or even the color blue. I'm not saying to like, take him to the beach or anything--but maybe something to do with that? You could even try something with like, fashion, he loves accessories--" Hunk hummed, and nodded, "Yeah, I remember before we left, he was eyeing these skate shoes really hard--but uh... that won't help." Keith frowned down at the table, watching the other boy move in his peripheral.

 

"I really do want to get to know him better," Keith said, sighing, and Hunk paused briefly before picking his pace back up. "It's just--difficult."

 

"Well, I can say one thing for sure--he admires you." Keith's eyebrows knit together at Hunk's words, and he finally glances up. "Believe it or not--he just doesn't have the best way of showing it... but then, you kind of take the bait." He gave Keith a wry smile, almost apologetic. Keith just shook his head.

 

"I'll... I'll figure something out," he muttered, dragging his hands down his face and huffing. Hunk opened his mouth, but before he could utter a sound, the oven dinged and he quickly maneuvered to pull out his batch of tarts. He turned around with the tray still in hand, and gestured with it.

 

“Want one?” Keith smiled, a bit eager to taste the weird alien berry tart. 

 

“Sure.”

 

{--+--}

 

Keith ended up in his room, two hours before they were supposed to present their gifts, empty-handed. He could make something, sure--he was really handy, but there really weren’t any resources for him to work with. He had an old leather cord that he pulled out of his pocket, but that was it.

 

A card would be too little, food is a no-go, and he couldn’t ask Pidge for help with anything tech-related either. He was on his own, which he wouldn’t mind too much--except that he wanted to give Lance something good, something that would--that would hopefully dispel this childish _thing_ they had between them.

 

And he needed to figure it out quick.

 

He started to rummage through his things, sighing as he opened his closet and found nothing, turning over his drawers, even peeking under his bed. But there was nothing--he had nothing. He had nothing to give Lance. He groaned softly into his room, the sound seeming unnaturally loud.

 

Keith was just about to disturb Allura for advice when Red purred at him from the connection, and he blinked, instinctively turning toward the direction of where she was in the hangar. He frowned, pushing a question between them, but he was only answered with a deeper, more rumbly purr.

 

With nothing else in mind, he shot up--and jogged over to where she sat, knowing the route by heart. Her presence filled his mind as he entered, and he craned his neck to look up at her, tilting his head slightly in question.

 

“You need me, bud?” He placed a hand on her paw, and she suddenly burst to life, scooping him up in her jaw and springing off the floor of the hangar. “Hey, hey! C’mon Red, what the fu--” He was slammed into his seat, the controls beeping to life and Red's amusement spilling over from the bond. When he righted himself and opened his eyes, the screen showed him that they were already out in space.

 

“Listen, I know you _probably_ have a good reason for this and all--but I have to give something to Lance in two hours so I--” he paused, realization lighting up his features, and he sat back. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” When Red rumbled again, Keith just laughed, shaking his head, and leaned forward again to seize the controls.

 

“Alright, girl. Tell me where to go.”

 

{--+--}

 

He wasn’t entirely sure how far they were from the castleship, but soon, a planet came into view. Red scanned it shortly for signs of life and whatever she had brought him here for--and when it became clear that there was only wildlife and a patch of whatever Red wanted him to get, she shot forward to land.

 

They touched down on a spot right next to a body of bright turquoise water, calm waves lapping smally at the shore. It was beautiful; Keith almost wished he took everyone else here. Lance would love it.

 

Then Red began to paw at the ground, and he frowned.

 

“What’re you looking for?” He jumped back from the screen as a picture of some kind of stone popped on his screen, and he looked at it. “This? For Lance? It doesn’t look real… uh, I don’t know, presentable.” Red chuffed impatiently, and the screen moved to show what the rock looked like after it was refined. Keith’s eyes widened.

 

“Oh, _fuck_ yes.”

 

{--+--}

 

It took them a few back breaking minutes of digging, Red pawing up the majority of the rocks and dirt and Keith reaching through the water (which was apparently not water and full of acid) to search for the stone.

 

“You know, you should’ve at least warned me that I would be reaching into acid,” he grumbled, wrinkling his nose. “It’s good that there was an emergency paladin suit in the cockpit, but still." Red snorted and her tail whipped around, sprinkling Keith with rocks. “Hey! You were the one who scooped me up without warning.”

 

She leaned in close to the opening of the hole and opened her jaws--Keith just barely ducked in time for her to shoot a laser at the dirt.

 

“What the hell!?” Red rumbled at him, and he sighed, wiping himself off and looking at where she blasted.

 

And right there, staring back at them, was the beautiful stone that they had been looking for.

 

{--+--}

 

They hurried back to the castle, Red picking up a transmission as they entered the hangar. Allura’s face popped up and he ducked a little, a bit surprised she even noticed they were gone.

 

“Hi,” he managed, before Allura started going off on him.

 

“I hope you enjoyed your little adventure, Keith,” she scolded, Shiro looking just as stern behind her, “because _we’ve_ been worried sick.” Keith groaned, glaring at Red’s handles.

 

“It’s not _my_ fault. Red kidnapped me.” In retaliation, Red did a barrel roll as they entered the gravity field of the castle, tossing him around the cabin. “Shit--Red! You _know_ I don’t have a seatbelt on!” She didn’t answer, but sat lightly down on the hangar floor and ejected him from the cockpit. He groaned as he sat up, sticking his tongue out at the lion.

 

“Keith,” Allura said over the comms, “Control room. Now.” He sighed, pocketing the stone, and walked.

 

{--+--}

 

Allura was _angry._

 

“We’re supposed to get together and present our gifts in less than an hour and you’ve been what--adventuring all day on your own? I don’t know what you think this day was supposed to be for, but it was definitely not for a solo mission.” Keith frowned as she continued, eyes flicking over to the clock just below the ceiling of the control room.

 

“Keith,” Shiro cut in, and for as much as he was grateful no one was in the room except for Allura and Shiro, it also meant that Shiro could say whatever to him. The older man walked up to him and placed both hands on Keith’s shoulder. “I know you don’t do well with these kinds of things, and that you’re probably pissed for getting Lance, but--”

 

“No, actually--you guys don’t get it,” Keith said, impatience boiling over, “you’re actually wasting your time lecturing me, because I was actually out getting something _for_ Lance. No offense, but less than a day to think up a gift for someone _and_ have it be meaningful is a bit much.” The two of them stared at him for a brief moment, shocked to silence.

 

“Well, I--um,” Allura stuttered, and then glanced over to Shiro, who shrugged. “Well, while I don’t appreciate your tone, I guess… that makes sense.”

 

“Yeah, so can I like, actually make the present now? Because I only have like--”

 

“Yes, yes--” Allura cracked a gigantic smile, and pushed him out the door. “Good luck!” Shiro gave him a thumbs up, but Keith just raised his eyebrows at his older brother, and gestured meaningfully to Allura. Shiro’s eyes narrowed, but then the door shut, and Keith spun and took off.

 

40 minutes was going to be clutch.

 

{--+--}

 

He spent about ten of those precious minutes trying to decide what to do with the stone--obviously, he was going to carve it to bring out its best, but he didn’t even know where to start. Keith had worked with stones when he was in the shack, scraping and polishing them to sell, but this was different.

 

It was _space rock._

 

It was a _space rock_ for _Lance._

 

Keith gulped and whipped out his blade, looking at the time, and just decided to just start. The shape would manifest itself--though he did have an idea of what he wanted it to be like.

 

He wanted it to be smooth--and he wanted to carve waves somewhere in the final product, then hang it on his leather cord.

 

With only 30 minutes left, he readied himself--hands working carefully as the unrefined stone shaved off, piece by piece, revealing a glimmering gem beneath.

 

{--+--}

 

Keith became so focused on his work that he hadn’t even noticed when the deadline came and passed--he kept working, trying to perfect his design.

 

He jumped as Allura’s voice sounded over the comms, and almost cut himself in the same exact spot earlier in the day.

 

“Keith! Please finish up your gift, we are all waiting in the commons room.” Keith glanced at the time and then cursed--it had already been an hour and a half since he got to work. He was _way_ late.

 

He had smoothed the stone down to a nickel-sized circle, but for the life of him, he didn’t know how he could hang it on the string. Keith couldn’t pierce the stone and make a hole with his knife--he’d have to hollow it out.

 

Shrugging once more, he put his back into it, the stone slowly hollowing out with each scrape.

 

This stone was different than anything Keith had worked with--not only because it was a _space rock,_ but because it was so malleable under his blade. It might be because it was the Galra blade that made it easier; when he tried to scrape it with his bayard, it wouldn’t budge, and it felt as solid as steel. 

 

He didn’t question it too much, though, just grateful he could easily make something of worth that wouldn’t wear easily.

 

And finally, 20 minutes later, he stood back, smiling down at his work. If Lance didn’t love this, then Keith was shit out of luck.

 

{--+--}

 

Keith tied the cord to the pendant on the way there--skirting the corners of the hallway and bursting into the common room. Everyone was gathered around eating food, and they all whipped around as he walked in.

 

“Keith!” Pidge came racing over and looked purposefully at his hand, where he was very tightly holding the necklace. “What’s that?”

 

Keith gave them a Look and kept walking, grabbing an envelope from the table of papers and discreetly putting the stone in, as Allura suddenly clapped and stood in a flourish.

 

“Alright! Now that everyone’s here, let’s begin! First up, me!” She turned around and pulled up a box, and then marched over to Shiro. He blinked at the gift, and then frowned suspiciously at Pidge. But Allura caught his attention again, bumping the box against his chest earnestly. “Open it.”

 

Shiro did, and he was surprised to pull out some kind of suit. “Wow,” he murmured, eyes taking in the smooth, silky fabric and shimmering color. It was a dark, bold purple. “This is--wow.” Lance craned his neck to see the fabric and his jaw dropped at the sight of it.

 

“How the heck did you make that in so little time, Allura?”

 

“Ah, well--the mice helped out,” she said, and they all ran up to her shoulder and squeaked excitedly.

 

“Thank you, Allura,” Shiro said, still in a bit of a shock. Allura smiled widely, color dusting her cheeks ever so slightly, and Keith and Pidge exchanged a glance. “My turn now,” he said, and handed Allura a box as well.

 

She quickly dug into it, and gasped as she saw what was inside, and then covered the present and her face. Shiro’s face instantly fell, and he full-on panicked.

 

“It’s, uh--If you don’t like it--I mean, I didn’t know if it was okay, I--But if you don't, I can--” he stopped suddenly as she hugged him, burying her face into his shoulder. Shiro took a breath and then blinked, slowly bringing his hands to rest on her back, and Allura sniffled.

 

“Thank you,” she said softly, and the rest of the group were on the edge of their seat, waiting.

 

“What is it?” Hunk asked, looking back and forth between the two of them curiously. Allura pulled back out of the embrace and turned back to the box, eyes still tearing up. She carefully reached in and pulled it out, setting it on her lap.

 

It looked like something out of beauty and the beast--there was a beautiful red flower encased in glass. Coran gasped softly.

 

“A juniberry…”

 

“A what?”

 

“It’s, uh--” Allura sniffled heavily. “It’s a flower that used to grow on Altea…” They all nodded in understanding, and Coran walked over and ran a wondering hand over the case.

 

“This is… Shiro, how’d you…?”

 

“Ah, well…” He flushed, rubbing the back of his head. “The princess has confided in me about them, and I remembered… from that one time… Well, I looked it up and…” Shiro gestured to the flower. “There it is.”

 

“Thank you,” Allura repeated, and Shiro nodded.

 

“Y-yeah, of course.”

 

“My turn,” Pidge announced, and pulled a huge box over from the side of the room. Keith helped them lift it onto the small coffee table in the middle of the couch, right in front of Hunk. Hunk’s eyes were already growing watery.

 

“For me?” He pointed at himself, and his voice rose about three octaves. Pidge nodded, and Hunk pulled them into a soul-crushing hug. “Oh my god… thank you.”

 

“Hunk, bud,” Lance said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “you’re literally killing Pidge, and also you haven’t opened it yet.”

 

“I know.” He sniffled, voice wobbly, and then set to opening it. When he realized what it was, he tackled Pidge with a hug, one that Pidge returned.

 

"It, uh--uses about 500 thousand megawatts of power, you can cook basically anything--I also added a convection oven in there, just for kicks." Pidge struggled a bit in Hunk's vice grip, but soon gave up, voice becoming more strained. "It also... can flash-freeze stuff." Hunk just squeezed them tighter.

 

After a long while, Hunk finally released Pidge, who floated away in a daze, and turned to Coran. “Coran,” he started, “I know we haven’t known each other that long, and that we’ve been through a lot these last few--”

 

“What are you doing, proposing?” Hunk gave Keith an accusing stare.

 

“No. I was just--you know, expressing my appreciation for Coran. Before I give him his present. It’s really important to build up the moment.” A silence stretched between the group, and finally, Hunk caved with a pout, handing Coran a small box. “I love you Coran, here.”

 

“Aw, Hunk… Thank you.” Coran opened the box with barely disguised excitement, and he took a small device out of the wrapping and stared at it in awe. “I… I love it. I haven’t gotten a present for 10,000 years… This is certainly wonderful.” He smiled at Hunk. “What does it do?”

 

“Oh, uh--” Hunk reached forward and took it, pressing a couple buttons. “It’s a multi-tool, it like--it has a knife,” he pressed a button and a blade popped out, startling Allura and Hunk himself, “a spork, a test tube, emergency spices, and--” He flipped it over. “A ticker _and_ a timer.”

 

“A timer?” Coran took it back, staring at it with big eyes.

 

“Yeah. I thought it’d be cool if we could really compare ticks and seconds, so I installed it on this with a bunch of other super cool handy stuff.” Coran raced forward and hugged him, and Hunk patted him. "It also has a conversion factor from Earth time to uh--Altean time. Or space time. Alien time. You know." Coran nodded, and stepped back, collecting himself. Then he abruptly turned, staring straight at Pidge.

 

“Okay. Pidge--This is a collaborative effort between me, Hunk, and Lance.” Pidge frowned, confused, as Coran handed them a pretty big box. Pidge frowned contemplatively as they opened it, and then froze, eyes widening and glasses falling down a fraction on the bridge of their nose. They looked up with wide eyes, eyes flickering from Coran to Lance to Hunk and back.

 

“No. No _fucking_ way.”

 

“Way,” Lance said with a flick of his wrist, and Pidge ravaged the rest of the wrapping, pulling it out. They giggled excitedly, and Keith watched in amazement as they raced over to the TV that they had built about a week ago, and pulled out the gaming system.

 

“Now we can play that game--”

 

“Yep!”

 

“I can be a hero!” Pidge posed dramatically, completely excited and ignoring everyone else as they began to connect the device up.

 

“You’re technically already a hero,” Shiro said, but Pidge didn’t answer--too invested in their new toy. Lance walked over, and put a hand on Pidge’s shoulder.

 

“No offense my dude, but Keith and I still have to give each other our presents.” Pidge blinked.

 

“Oh, right. Sorry.” They crawled back over to the couch and sat down, but their eyes kept moving back to the console before snapping back.

 

“Lance,” Hunk whined, “you ruined it. You weren’t supposed to tell Keith you were the one giving him a present--”

 

“Uh, it’s fine? Everyone in the room has gone. Keith would have to be kinda spacey not to realize that.” Lance cleared his throat, suddenly, and shoved a box into Keith’s hand. “Anyway, here.”

 

Keith stared down at the present, then at Lance, who wouldn’t look at him, and then back down at the wrapping. He opened it carefully, feeling kind of surreal--Lance? Giving him a present?

 

But it was real, and Keith pulled out a piece of black leather. Upon closer inspection, it was a new sheath; he had lost his old one when Antok had taken his mother’s knife; it was pretty damn uncomfortable without the familiar weight on his back.

 

He pulled out the blade and it fit perfectly, and stared in awe at the craftsmanship. He quickly buckled it on his waist. Lance rubbed the back of his neck.

 

“I, uh--noticed you didn’t have your other one. I hope it’s pretty similar to the original--but I also took some liberties and it was mostly guesswork. I don’t--” Keith rushed forward and hugged him, and Lance stiffened. Keith quickly let go, trying to hide his face. He hadn’t meant to do that.

 

“Thank you, Lance.” Keith ended up beaming at Lance for too many ticks to be normal, and although Lance was giving him a kinda goofy grin back, it was Shiro clearing his throat that snapped them out of it. Keith fumbled to get his present out of his pocket. “I, uh--sorry I was so late.” He slapped the envelope in Lance’s hand, and Lance blinked, running his thumbs over the shape of what was inside and then eagerly opening it up.

 

His jaw dropped, to say the least, and the envelope fluttered to the floor. Lance dangled the stone from his hand, holding it up between them, and just stared at it. Allura ‘Ooh’-ed softly, and Pidge adjusted their glasses to see it better.

 

It looked especially brilliant under the castle lights, shimmering a bright, deep blue, and created an interesting effect on Lance’s irises. The tiny waves Keith carved into the stone seemed to move as the light refracted.

 

Suddenly, Keith grew really hot.

 

“I, uh--Red kinda kidnapped me and I found this stone, and I was really good at carving when I was in the desert--er, well, I got good carving while being there--so I thought--” Lance hugged him tightly, and Keith blinked, but eventually relaxed. This stupid grin was starting to make his face hurt.

 

“Thank you,” Lance murmured, and pulled back. Keith opened his mouth to say something--but instead, he hesitantly took the stone from Lance and walked around him to tie it on. It dipped just between his collarbones--and Keith smiled ag the way it brought out Lance’s eyes.

 

The way Lance sparkled--maybe Keith would come to love more things like this. Giving gifts wasn’t so bad--and Valentine’s Day, he thought slowly, maybe wasn’t so terrible after all. He placed a hand on his new belt, as the group dissolved into smiles and tears and thank you's.

 

Yeah, there's no way it would be terrible. Not anymore, not with Lance around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus christ I've tried to upload this like 5 times please ao3 let me live...  
> Anyway this is totally clutch I swear I finished this before Valentine's Day ended. Sigh.  
> There's going to be an extra little bonus chapter I'll add within the week.
> 
> \--- edit- -  
> Damnit. I wanted to say something important but I forgot. I fixed the tenses a bit, it's less choppy and awkward, blah blah, please enjoy. Also uh, for some reason it seems I accidentally posted it to some kinda collection or something? I have No Idea how it did that or why it said that, but I've since removed it, so..


	2. -love you

The rest of the night was spent eating, watching Pidge play the first half of the video game, laughing, and reminiscing about their short but eventful time together. 

 

The whole time, Keith could feel Lance’s gaze on him; it was a slight shift in between his shoulder blades, the way the conversation lulled suddenly as everyone stopped talking. He would look over, then, and catch Lance quickly turning his attention elsewhere--but he knew. They both knew.

 

Keith felt his own gaze wandering, too--sometimes it would catch on Lance’s eyelashes, or the curve of his jaw as he laughed, and drift dangerously close to his eyes. He would catch himself, though, and instead distract himself with looking at the pendant. Lance had purposefully kept it untucked, letting it hang loosely and bounce as he moved. The way it caught the light was almost as brilliant as the color in Lance’s irises.

 

Pidge caught him sometimes, miraculously, in the few times they glanced away from the TV screen--they would just narrow their eyes and waggle their brows, and Keith would immediately grab one of Hunk’s smaller heart chocolates and chuck it at them.

 

“Hey, this is supposed to be a day full of  _ love,”  _ Pidge said, emphasizing the word love almost grossly. Keith just frowned, fighting off the heat rising up to his face and threw more.

 

“This is me--sending my love to you.” Lance suddenly grabbed his wrist and took the chocolate from Keith’s hand, and popped it into his mouth.

 

“Well, technically this is  _ Hunk’s  _ love, and you’re wasting it.” The area where their skin touched grew hotter by the second. Keith quickly grabbed a handful more of the chocolates, and then showered Lance with them.

 

“It’s a show of  _ my  _ love _ ,  _ Lance,” Keith said with a mock-hurt expression, drawing in his eyebrows and sticking out his lower lip, “I can’t believe you would reject me.” Lance immediately froze, taken aback by Keith’s words, and Pidge ‘ooh-ed’.

 

“It’s alright, Lance,” Hunk chimed, “I have plenty more love to go around.” He walked over and put down another bowl of chocolates. Keith snickered and reached his other hand towards the new bowl, this time filled with pink hearts, but Lance stopped him again; hands on both wrists.

 

“Do not waste Hunk’s love,” Lance repeated, and Keith just grins at him, the grip around his wrists like fire.

 

“I can’t waste Hunk’s love if I’m transferring it.”

 

“Yeah, you are, because you’re throwing it at Pidge and it’s hitting the disgusting floor.” Keith looked back down where Pidge was, but all the pieces were gone. He smirked back at Lance, albeit a bit confused. “Huh, are you sure?” Lance rolled his eyes and groaned.

 

“Pidge, you gremlin, you aren’t supposed to eat things off the floor.” Pidge had turned around, back to the screen--quite obviously chewing, and they flipped Lance off. Keith burst out laughing.

 

“What? Pidge  _ ate  _ those!?” 

 

“Yeah, used to do that kinda shit all the time at the Garrison. Honestly, what the hell, man.”

 

“You try having an older brother that eats everything in the goddamn house before you can get to it, and then come back to me after you’re starved.” A beat of silence followed as Pidge cursed softly at the video game.

 

“Uh, I  _ am  _ the older brother?” Pidge paused the game, and ever so slowly, looked back.

 

“Then  _ you  _ are the problem.” That sent Keith on another bout of giggles, and Hunk cleared his throat from somewhere behind them, trying to cover up his amusement.

 

“Wow. I feel so  _ un- _ loved,” Lance sighed dramatically, finally releasing Keith’s wrists and flopping backwards onto the couch. “So much for  _ Love Day.” _ Hunk snorted, and then went to watch Pidge defeat the video game enemies more closely.

 

“It’s alright,” Keith murmured, starting to pelt Lance with more chocolate hearts, “I got you.” Lance tried to shield himself from the onslaught, but mistakenly lowered his hands to talk. He opened his mouth--and Keith planted one straight down his throat.

 

Lance choked a little bit before the chocolate melted, all the while Keith laughing his ass off. He did have the dignity to look slightly apologetic, but he was out of breath as he did so--and it sounded really insincere.

 

“I’m--god, fuck--I’m sorry, Lance--” He doubled over again, and Pidge looked over at the two of them, narrowing their eyes. Lance’s pendant swung from its place on his collarbone, glittering.

 

“They’ve got it bad,” Hunk whispered, and Pidge nodded.

 

“They’re worse than Shiro and Allura.”

 

{--+--}

 

Speaking of, Shiro and Allura had ‘disappeared’ somewhere, and when they finally came back they found the four paladins (absent Coran, who said he wanted to try out the spices Hunk gave him), all on a sugar high and with chocolate hearts scattered around the room.

 

At the moment, Keith was trying to persuade Lance to eat a rodish berry, shoving the bowl insistently under his nose and snickering when Lance made a face.

 

“Come on, Lance. Even I did it,” he was saying, scooting forward as Lance scooted away.

 

“No way. I kinda hate berries in general,  _ and  _ calamari, so--” Pidge gasped.

 

“You  _ hate  _ berries? How could you.”

 

“Yeah, one time, I made these really awesome berry smoothies for us, complete with greek yogurt and overall just awesome goodness--and Lance didn’t even try it. Didn’t even take a sip. All that hard work,” Hunk lamented, exaggerating a sigh, “for nothing.”

 

“Hunk, buddy!” Lance sputtered, waving his hands wildly, “I had already told you I didn’t like berries, and you--”

 

“Okay, what kinda berries do you hate? Because whatever you hate, the rodish doesn’t taste like it at all.” Keith was really close to Lance, now, and blinked at their proximity, shoving the bowl forward but sitting back a bit. Lance glared lightly at him.

 

“What if I told you I hate  _ all  _ berries?” Keith opened his mouth, but Pidge beat him to it.

 

“You can’t. That’d be--you’re a heathen if that’s true.”

 

“Coming from you? A heathen? Isn’t that a little, I don’t know… hypocritical?” Pidge smiled wickedly at Lance.

 

“Those who have experienced that which in likeness another has himself, know best the details regarding the shared plight .” Everyone paused, shooting Pidge blank stares.

 

“Really?” Pidge sighed at their teammates. “It means I know best what you are because I’m a part of the category myself.”

 

“Oh,” Keith murmured, echoed by Lance, and then Hunk. “Well, I have a very simple solution to all this,” he declared. Hunk cocked an eyebrow, but Pidge seemed to get it, smirking as Keith plucked a single berry from the dish. Lance frowned.

 

“What do you mea--” Keith whipped the fruit at Lance, landing it right in between his lips. Pidge shot up from the floor and started to yell, dragging their hands down the side of their face and dashing around the room. Hunk’s face just dropped in awe, and he slowly brought his hands together--all while Keith howling, slapping his knee and trying to breathe, while Lance was trying to breathe for a whole other reason.

 

He finally swallows the overpoweringly sour berry, still coughing as he washes the alien food down his throat with a gulp of water.

 

“Jesus christ,” he wheezed, pounding his chest. He glared at his three friends, standing up and crossing his arms. “I could have  _ died,” _ he hissed, grabbing Keith by the shoulders and shaking him. Keith just moved like jelly, weak from all the laughter.

 

“I’m sorry,” Keith breathed, finally, after he’d calmed down. Pidge landed themselves on the couch, grabbing a pillow and tucking it close after noticing Allura and Shiro at the door, staring, and Hunk crawled over to Lance and squished his palms against his face.

 

“Lance, are you okay?”

 

“Yes,” Lance grunted, unamused, and Hunk then nodded, letting go. They all settled down, then, Keith still chuckling every so often. “I could have died,” he repeated, while Keith shook his head.

 

“Um, excuse us,” Allura finally said, and all of them freeze. “Explain?” Keith started snickering all over again, and bit his knuckles to try and shut up--it didn’t work very well, and Allura just raised her eyebrows even higher. Lance just gave Allura a Look.

 

“Basically,” Pidge began, “Keith figured out how to make Lance choke, and we wanted him to try a rodish berry, so…”

 

“I wasn’t trying to make him choke, though,” Keith defended, “that was just, uh…” Shiro crossed his arms.

 

“Aftermath of a poor decision?” Hunk and Pidge exchanged a look, as well as a hushed ‘ooo,’ and Keith looked away.

 

“...Maybe,” he said, a bit arbitrarily, and Lance narrowed his eyes.

 

“... ‘Maybe’?”

 

“That berry was really too small to choke on, anyway, and I only threw one.”

 

“What about the chocolate, earlier?” Keith pursed his lips, thinking.

 

_ “That _ was an accident.”

 

“Well, that’s--”

 

“Alright, alright, enough. Go to bed, we could hear you all the way down the hall.” Allura crossed her arms as one by one, the paladins shuffle past; Keith caught Shiro on the way out, whispering a quick, “I wonder what you’ve been up to?” before getting scarce. Judging by the amount of red on Shiro’s face… well.

 

“Called it,” Pidge hissed as they walked away, and Keith smirked.

 

“Alright, but I saw it first,” Keith huffed back, and Pidge just elbowed him in the ribs. He made a noise and staggered slightly--for someone so tiny, Pidge sure had a bit of strength. Keith rubbed his side, even as he watched Lance and Hunk walking a couple steps before them, Lance in particular gesturing wildly and then slumping--almost in defeat.

 

Keith didn’t want to think about his posture and what he was saying--especially when the name, “Allura,” floated back to him.

 

Pidge’s mouth tightened a fraction, and their gaze flicked to Keith, noting the way his eyebrows drew together just a fraction more. They sighed, dragging Keith’s attention away from Lance and Hunk, and started talking about a project they’d like Keith to help with testing out.

 

{--+--}

 

Keith tossed and turned that night, sighing as his thoughts refused to cease. The sugar high had crashed on him about an hour ago, but despite his drooping eyes and pounding headache, he couldn’t find sleep.

 

After a while, he took to examining his knife and the new holster Lance gave him--since he had been so eager to put it on earlier, he hadn’t thoroughly examined it. Briefly, he wondered how Lance had made this--how he got the materials, if anyone helped--and he was surprised at how similar it was to his last.

 

This one, though, had one stark difference--on the actual sheath, it had a bright red symbol. It was the same one he saw above Red’s place in the hangar, on the inside of his helmet, and on the bottom of his shoes. Allura had said it was the guardian symbol of fire.

 

Miraculously enough, though--whenever he ran his thumb over the insignia, it glowed a little brighter. At first he thought it was just the sugar messing with him, but it became more apparent as the careful symbol continued to blaze that it wasn’t his imagination.

 

It seemed that Lance’s present had been just as meticulously crafted as Keith’s had been.

 

{--+--}

 

Unable to take the restlessness these thoughts had instilled in him and the implications they held (that Keith did  _ not  _ want to think about)--he jumped off his bed and stepped into the dimly lit corridor. He didn’t really have a destination, as for once he didn’t want to train, so he just let his feet take him in whatever direction they wanted.

 

He was drawn in by his thoughts, thinking hard, not paying any attention to where he was going. Finally, though, something prompted Keith to raise his head, and he stopped short at what he saw.

 

He hadn’t known such an area existed on the castleship--an incredibly huge window, displaying the thousands of stars they were currently hurtling past. The quiet awe guided him to press his hand against the window, and he stared, dumbstruck, at the stars and planets in the distance.

 

It was different when he was fighting--he was always focused on an enemy or his allies--so now, without any distraction, he studied the void in front of him. Standing like this, before billions of stars, it was hard not to let reality crash down around you.

 

“Keith?” The voice jerked him out of his thoughts, and he quickly retracted his hand, as if it had been burned. He turned to see Lance standing a couple feet away, eyeing him. Keith cleared his throat.

 

“Uh--y-yeah?” He locked gazes with Lance--the soft light from the stars did wonders to his irises. He then quickly broke gazes as an intense feeling overcame him, and instead wandered down to examine the pendant on his neck, still hanging there, still glittering.

 

“What are you doing here so late?” Lance’s voice was different than usual--it was softer. It had more  _ potential.  _ Keith wasn’t sure if it was the atmosphere that did that, or his own imagination--regardless, every move Keith made seemed to hold a weight.

 

“I could ask you the same thing,” Keith answered, a bit guardedly. “You’re also here.” At this, Keith expected Lance to bristle, like usual--but instead, the other paladin just brought a hand up to the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly.

 

“Ah, yeah. I guess you’re right about that.” Keith frowned, but not  _ at  _ Lance, although this was definitely weird. This interaction felt weird--the whole thing felt weird--he tried to find a word to describe it, but his thoughts stuttered to a decisive halt as Lance started towards him.

 

Keith watched Lance come to stand beside him, looking out at the vast expanse of the section of space, and saw him sigh, a slight twitch of his shoulders. If he wasn’t looking so closely, he would have missed it.

 

“It’s weird,” Lance began, after a couple heartbeats of silence, “because in school they tell you that the universe is infinite, and here we are, travelling the universe--hell, we’re  _ defenders  _ of the universe. It’s just…” he trailed off, not really explaining himself fully, but Keith nodded anyway.

 

“Not to mention the fact that most of the ‘known universe’ has been conquered,” Keith added, quoting Allura from way back when. Lance let out another heavy sigh.

 

“Yeah.”

 

They dissolved into a comfortable quiet, Keith’s heart rattling loudly in his ribcage. He was sure Lance could hear it--but if he really could, he didn’t say anything.

 

Keith’s fingers kept running over the leather of his new sheath--the part of the belt that hung over his hipbone. He wouldn’t say he was  _ nervous,  _ per se--but something about this moment… 

 

He felt vaguely that even time around the two of them was bending--moving slower than usual (disregarding the fact that that was already happening, because they were in a spaceship in space)--almost as if they were caught in a bubble, another realm. A space within a space, a dream within a dream.

 

“You think so?” Lance asked suddenly--Keith blinked.

 

“Huh?”

 

“You mumbled something about being inside a bubble,” he explained, and Keith pursed his lips, trying to hide his embarrassment.

 

“Uh, yeah. Feels weird,” he said haltingly, glancing over at Lance. He was surprised to find the other looking at him with a goofy, slightly crooked smile.

 

“Never thought you’d be like that.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“All… you know,” Lance gestured vaguely, “All philosophical and… and  _ conspiring.” _ Keith snorted, rolling his eyes.

 

“Seems like you have a lot to learn about me,” Keith murmured, meaning it to come out as a tease. Instead, it was almost like a confession, a soft string of words that had the power to change.

 

Whatever kind of dimension he was in, it was making him say weird things--he needed to leave.

 

Lance moved his whole body, leaning against the glass, and the stone Keith had carved not even half a day before flashed. 

 

“Seems like I do,” he replied, and they stared at one another for a time, too long to be normal--the spell was broken when Keith cleared his throat, grasping desperately at the sparse number of conversation starters floating through his head.

 

“Thanks, by the way,” Keith told him, moving his hand from his hip to his tailbone, where the sheath held his knife snug and secure. “I really needed a new belt.” Lance smiled.

 

“No problemo, man. I saw how you didn’t come back with it after the Blade had their fun with you--You shouldn’t have been carrying that dagger around without a proper cover, anyway,” he turned back to the window, voice dropping, tone growing more firm. “You could’ve seriously hurt yourself.” Keith almost forgot to scoff.

 

“Well, that’s--it’s important to me. I can’t just leave it.”

 

“I know. That’s why I made you a new one,” he retorted simply, crossing his arms. Then that tone was gone from his voice--the one that made it hard for Keith to breathe. “I made it black, too, to reflect your true emo and edgy essence.” Keith snorted.

 

“Too bad I don’t have anything like that to say to you.” Keith set his eyes on a particularly bright star in the distance. “Your gift is self-explanatory.” Lance hummed thoughtfully.

  
“Really? Explain it to me anyway.” Keith turned to look at the other boy--which was a mistake, because the look Lance was giving him was--it was doing weird things to his chest, that’s for sure. His eyes shot back to the stars.

 

“It’s--there’s--I carved it, from some precious space stone,” he stammered out, heart thundering. “It’s blue,” he added, when Lance remained quiet. He risked a glance.

 

“And?” Lance prompted, smile curving into something dangerous, eyes glinting. Keith huffed.

 

“You know, if you want self-gratification, you could always--”

 

“I’m serious,” Lance said softly, cutting Keith off. Keith inhaled, about to say something else, but stopped. Lance looked… hopeful. He pursed his lips, this time staring intently at the floor between his toes, running a finger over his belt anxiously.

 

“Er--well, it’s a pretty blue. And--you’re the same blue,” Keith bit out, confused on what exactly Lance wanted him to say. “Red helped me find it, and I remembered what Hunk said about you loving the beach--and I also--I mean, you always talk about the waves and Varadero, so…” He half-shrugged. He cleared his throat, looking away effectively, and said as softly as he could, “...It also matches your eyes really well.”

 

He heard Lance take a breath, and for a long time, neither of them said anything. In that time, Keith was sure he died at least 13 times. Finally, he gave in, and with a hand covering half his face, he tried to sneak a look.

 

Lance was still turned fully towards him, though, but he was looking at the blue stone, turning it around in his hands, chin tucked and a soft smile on his face. Keith blinked. The warm feeling that bloomed in his chest was unfamiliar, but recognizable--

 

“Thanks, Keith,” he whispered, and looked up. Even if Keith had been in the desert for a year, even if he saw the most beautiful sunrises and rock formations the world had to offer, even if all the wonders of the Earth were etched into his brain--nothing could compare to the way Lance looked now, full-on smiling, eyes crinkling and lips slightly parted to reveal perfect, white teeth. And then, Lance did something that he only saw in movies.

 

He kissed him.

 

Lance quickly brought his hand up, the other holding the stone, and cupped Keith’s cheek--and he leaned in before Keith could process what was happening, placing a chaste kiss slightly off-center on his mouth. Lance’s lips were gone as soon as they had come, though, and then he was leaving.

 

“See ya tomorrow,” he threw over his shoulder, and Keith waited until the door had hissed softly shut behind him to combust, sinking down to the floor and hiding his face in his hands.

 

If he wasn’t dead before, he most  _ definitely _ was now.

 

{--+--}

 

Keith waited a good hour before sprinting back to his room--in that time, his heart had calmed down, but his face still felt like it was on fire. He still kept replaying the scene over in his mind, mumbling something like, ‘that didn’t happen, it wasn’t real--that was definitely a dream, it didn’t--oh my god, Lance fucking  _ kissed  _ me--’ over and over again, restarting his poor weak heart into another bout of hysterics.

 

After pacing for another good 15 minutes, Keith finally stopped, hopped into bed, and pulled the covers all the way over his head.

 

That was a dream. It had to be.

 

{--+--}

 

Keith jerked awake, sitting upright even as the events of before came rushing back into his mind. He groaned loudly, dragging his hands down his face-- _ honestly,  _ he was a defender of the universe--not some highschool girl, he should be able to handle this--but no matter what he told himself, he still couldn’t help the way his heart sped up.

 

He was pretty sure by the time next Valentine’s Day came around, he’d be fucking dead. He’d be dead and it’d be Lance’s fault because the damn bastard was way too damn fucking perfect and--

 

Keith shook himself, glancing at the time, and then flew out of bed. Everyone would be at breakfast by now.

 

He could see Lance again.

 

{--+--}

 

Keith slowed considerably when he realized that  _ he would see Lance again.  _ He paused outside the door, lingering, considering his sanity. He was pretty sure everything that happened yesterday happened, considering--

 

The doors swished open before Keith had a chance to thoroughly think himself into a stupor--and Pidge crashed into him.

 

“Keith!” they exclaimed, as Keith held them steady. He frowned down at Pidge, who looked up at him accusingly. “You slept in, and I’ve had to deal with  _ these  _ idiots for a whole entire 20 minutes!” Keith laughed lightly, rolling his eyes and spinning Pidge around.

 

“Oh, wow, a  _ whole  _ 20 minutes? How cruel of me,” he mocked, which earned him a sharp jab to the side. Easy access. Keith was about to say more, but he stopped the moment he actually looked up.

 

Shiro and Allura were staring at eachother--hard. Like, really, lovey-dovey hard. It was kinda gross, actually. Lance had stopped talking the minuted he heard Keith come on, freezing mid-gesture.

 

“Uh, hey, Lance,” Keith said, brain fizzling out as he waved weakly. Pidge huffed indignantly, and dragged Keith to his seat, even as Lance’s face cracked into a dopey smile and he waved back.

 

“Not you too,” Pidge grumbled, shoving Keith beside Lance, like usual, and taking their spot between Hunk and Coran.

 

“Morning,” Hunk tried, through a mouthful of food, and Keith smiled at him.

 

“Morning.”

 

Keith tried to focus, really, he did--but Lance was closer to him than usual, their thighs almost touching, and jesus christ, all Keith could think about was the heat that radiated between them, and how last night, he had sworn that Lance had left a hand-shaped burn mark on the side of his face. When he had looked in the mirror, he was both relieved and a bit astonished to find his skin unmarred.

 

Keith went to go for some seconds on Hunk’s version of space pancakes (they were a beautiful teal), and bumped into Lance--they both recoiled, and turned to each other at the same time, locking gazes.

 

“Sorry--” Keith said, at the same time Lance said, “My bad.” Then they stared at one another for a little longer than necessary--Keith began to think about Lance, and his necklace, and the color blue--only to jump slightly as Pidge cleared her throat.

 

“Y-yeah?” Lance said, when Keith’s voice failed him. This earned a frustrated huff from Pidge, who also glanced at Allura and Shiro, before groaning.

 

“This is the  _ last fucking time  _ I tell Allura about  _ any  _ holiday, ever,” Pidge muttered, before hopping out of their chair and dragging Hunk along. “I’m going to go play my video game--Hunk, you’re coming, and Coran, you can come too--the rest of you are banned from the common room.” Allura seemed to snap out her trance as she watched Pidge go, and Lance just whined.

 

“Pidge, I’m the one that helped you buy that thing! I wanna play!” Pidge stopped at the doorway, shoulders moving as they took a deep breath.

 

“You can come in,” Pidge bit out, “after you resolve whatever  _ that _ is, and can control it.” They pointed directly in between Keith and Lance. The door closed behind them, and Keith sighed, burying his face in his hands, once again. Lance frowned at the table.

 

“What was that?” Allura asked, and Shiro blinked, looking around.

 

“What was what?”

 

{--+--}

 

Keith found himself in the training room shortly after--apparently Allura was even too distracted to call them all to team training; not that he minded. They hadn’t had a  _ real  _ day off in a while.

 

But despite himself, Keith was having an awful time against the level 7 bot. He was trying to learn his Galra blade, but it kept reverting back to its original form whenever he tried to land a blow. Ultimately, it led him to where he was now, lying on the floor after having the wind knocked out of him, struggling to breathe.

 

He coughed into the castleship’s floor as he pressed his forehead to the cold metal, and just barely was able to roll out of the way of another hit. Keith sucked in a huge breath and stumbled to his feet, his blade growing once again--only to shrink back a second later.

 

The brief distraction let the gladiator strike him right under his sternum, between his ribcages. He involuntarily curled in on himself, the force sending him flying. This one was worse than before--although he could get air into his lungs, each time burned. He felt like he was going to throw up.

 

The bot swung the staff and dashed towards him, and Keith knew there was no way he could beat it now. He braced himself for another hit--but just as the bot loomed over him, a blast from the other side of the room punched a hole straight into its core. Keith groaned as it deactivated, for more than one reason.

 

“Eat too much chocolate yesterday or something?” Lance came into view, and Keith only sucked in another breath, trying to calm his lungs. When he finally could, he flopped onto his butt, sighing. Lance offered him some water.

 

“Thanks,” Keith rasped, and Lance muttered something like, “Don’t mention it.”

 

“What’re you doing here?” Keith asked when he wasn’t dying anymore, watching Lance through his eyelashes. A light pain still throbbed in his chest.

 

“Saving your ass, duh,” Lance said, and Keith snorted. “But, uh, what’s up with your sword? It kept like, going back to tiny form.” Keith shrugged.

 

“I dunno. I guess it’s just being temperamental.” Lance snorted.

 

“Oh, wow. Talk about a taste of your own medicine,” he teased, but instead of being agitated, Keith puffed out a short breath of air from his nose.

 

“Whatever,” he said, and kicked Lance’s legs out from under him. The taller boy crashed down with an undignified yelp, and Keith burst out laughing. Lance groaned softly, before looking back to say something--but was promptly stopped short by Keith’s face.

 

Keith’s fit eventually ended, and he wiped the heel of his hand under his eyes to chase away his tears. He opened his eyes and turned to Lance, and found the other gazing directly at him, eyes wide and intense. Keith blinked, wondering if he should say something.

 

“You,” Lance said, and Keith’s brows knitted together in confusion as he paused. “Your eyes are pretty too.” That was all it took for Keith’s face to burn, once again.

 

“You’re--!” Keith scrambled to his feet, sighing softly. “... I never said your eyes were pretty,” he mumbled, and Lance followed him up, frowning.

 

“What? I’m like, 99% sure you did,” Lance responded, but he sounded unsure, his face beginning to color rapidly. Then, he tilted his head slightly, and looked Keith straight in the face, voice adopting that tone that made Keith’s heart stop. “...Are you saying they aren’t?”

 

Keith’s eyes widened a fraction, and just like that, he was caught--if he said yes, he’d hate himself for weeks, not to mention the fact that Lance would make a big deal of it; he also didn’t want to see Lance’s disappointed expression (although he told himself he didn’t really care that much)--but if he said… no…

 

“That’s…” Keith wiped his hand down his face, posture wilting just a bit. “...not what I said,” he tried instead, and Lance shook his head.

 

“That’s not a valid answer, Keith--I asked you a question.” Keith refused to look at him, and honest to god--he’d take an army of Galra any day rather than  _ this…  _ whatever  _ this  _ was.

 

“...no,” he said smally, and Lance inched forward.

 

“What? I couldn’t hear you, Keith.” Slowly, Keith uncovered his face, gathering up a bit of courage.

 

“I never said your  _ eyes _ were pretty--but they are.” Lance was close to Keith now, and they both froze. “The--the blue… the blue is pretty.” Keith spun, at that point, because it looked like Lance was short-circuiting, and Keith was about to if he stayed here any longer.

 

Lance’s hand shot out, though, and caught him. Keith was afraid to look back.

 

“Keith.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Keith, look at me.” Keith’s gaze wandered all around the training room--it got stuck on the ceiling, where there was a slight discoloration in a patch of the material. He hyperfocused on that, not noticing when Lance crept closer--and then his face was being pulled, his cheeks smushed together, Lance’s beautiful blue eyes boring straight into his. Their noses and foreheads touched, and Keith went into overdrive. “Your eyes are pretty, too,” Lance whispered, and Keith did the only thing he could think to do.

 

He punched Lance--right in the gut, and  _ hard.  _ Lance stumbled away from him, wheezing, and Keith stared quizzically at his teammate, and then at his fist.

 

“Holy shit,” Lance was saying, arms wrapped around his midriff, “What the fuck?”

 

“Er--sorry,” Keith said lamely, “I… didn’t mean to do that.”

 

“Didn’t mean…” Lance straightened finally, and pointed an accusing finger at him. “You--you didn’t mean to punch me!?” Keith frowned.

 

“No?”

 

“How can you--how can you  _ not--” _

 

“It was just  _ instinct--” _

 

“Instinct!? So like, if this really important alien queen got all up in your space and did that are you saying you’d punch her!?” Keith bit his lip, tucking his fists in his armpits.

 

“...Probably,” he replied. Lance scoffed.

 

“You--this is going to bruise.”

 

“Sorry,” Keith muttered, and although it may not have sounded genuine--he really  _ was  _ sorry. He walked up to Lance and shoved away his arms, bunching up Lance’s shirt and inspecting the area where he punched. Lance squawked, trying to push Keith away, but he insisted, smacking Lance’s flailing limbs away. “Calm down, would you? I’m trying to look at it.”

 

“Uh--I think I’d rather have Coran take a look at it! At least I can be sure he won’t randomly punch me!” Keith ran his fingers over the area experimentally, and sighed when Lance flinched away.

 

“... I won’t randomly punch you,” Keith said, a bit childishly, taking a step back. Lance narrowed his eyes. 

 

“Uh, right--and just now? That wasn’t random?”

 

“...No.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“...Because, you were in my face.”

 

“It was random.”

 

_ “You  _ being in my  _ face  _ was random--not me punching you!”

 

“Oh, so what, I can’t even get close to you or something, or else I risk being punched!?” Lance’s face scrunched up, and Keith grunted, smacking his forehead. He took several breaths.

 

“I,” he began, “am sorry. I didn’t mean to do it--I told you.”

 

“And  _ I  _ don’t understand how you can mean to  _ not  _ punch someone.”

 

“It was impulse,” Keith muttered, still defensive. Lance narrowed his eyes, still skeptical. “Look, can we just--”

 

“You have to make it up to me, somehow,” Lance interrupted, and Keith’s head whipped up. The other was smirking, now--standing somewhat triumphantly, and something sunk into the pit of Keith’s stomach.

 

“Huh?” 

 

“You have to attone,” Lance repeated, and Keith just sighed, turning again to leave. “Hey!”

 

“You’ll live,” Keith yelled back, and tried not to think about  _ anything. _

 

{--+--}

 

Keith next ran into Lance just before dinner--Keith was starving, as he had forgotten to eat lunch; the two boys collided as Lance sprinted into the corridor, and they immediately jumped apart. Keith and Lance stared at each other for a good minute, and just as Keith was about to apologize, once again, Pidge interrupted.

 

“Beyonce doesn’t rest, Lance,” they said, and just like that, Lance shot away. Keith frowned after him, trying not to sigh. 

 

He finally turned into the room, fixing himself up a plate of food goo, and paused as he noticed that 1) Pidge and Hunk were quiet,  _ too  _ quiet, and 2) were staring at him.

 

“Uh?” Keith switched his gaze from Pidge to Hunk and then back again, until Hunk broke the awkward stare-down.

 

“I heard you punched Lance,” he said, eyes narrowing as he leaned forward over the table.

 

“I did as well,” Pidge chimed, and Keith rolled his eyes.

 

“Did Lance tell you what he was doing at the time too, or just that I assaulted him?”

 

“A bit of both, actually, but not the whole story. Which is why,” Hunk emphasized the why, and Keith had a really bad feeling about this, “we want to hear it _ all _ from you.”

 

{--+--}

 

Of course, Keith ended up telling them. Pidge had so much blackmail, it wasn’t even funny--and well, Hunk… all he had to do was give Keith a sad expression and that was it. Keith spilled.

 

“... And so I--I just kinda, punched him,” he said, after recounting Lance entering the training room and  _ strategically glossing over  _ the whole ‘wow your eyes are beautiful’ part. Pidge’s glasses slid down their nose as they looked at him through their eyelashes.

 

“You just… punched him?” Keith nodded, rubbing his arm a bit self consciously, and then Pidge let out a breath and adjusted their frames. “Well, then. Alright.” Hunk smiled softly.

 

“Lance, sometimes, can be as unpredictable as you.” Keith frowned slightly at that comment, because honestly, he wasn’t  _ that  _ unpredictable, but Hunk continued. “And now he’s probably sulking a bit because the guy he likes just punched him for being there. So, you better find him. Here,” Hunk spun around and gave him a cup of colored powder, as well as another cup filled with yellow sticks. “Give these to him.”

 

They ushered Keith out the door, even while he was still stuck on the word  _ likes.  _ He practically floated down the hall. It wasn’t until he stood in front of Lance’s door that he really had no clue what Hunk gave him--or really what he was even supposed to do. Either way, he didn’t have any time to contemplate this before the door slid open.

 

“Uh!” Lance jumped about ten feet in the air, and Keith recovered quickly, looking Lance up and down.

 

“You, uh… you alright?” Lance pouted slightly and eyed whatever it was Keith had in his hands.

 

“Is that… what I think it is?” He leaned forward, taking a stick out of the cup and licking it. Keith only shrugged.

 

“I don’t know what this is--Hunk just gave it to me.”

 

“What!?” Lance’s pout deepened. “He didn’t give me any--and wait, you don’t know what this is?”

 

“I think I was sent as a messenger,” Keith muttered, before shrugging once again. “And no--am I supposed to?” Lance suddenly dropped any plan of fleeing, setting an arm around Keith’s shoulders and guiding him into the room.

 

“Ah, yes. I see. I see now.” He pushed Keith down into a chair. “Hunk wants me to impart upon you  _ the knowledge.” _ Keith cocked an eyebrow, unsure if Lance was messing with him.

 

“Should I be worried?”

 

“I don’t know.” Lance crossed his arms, staring down across his nose, “Are you weak to the powers of sugary goodness in the universe?” The corner’s of Keith’s mouth twitched upwards, and he finally put two and two together.

 

“Extremely,” he answered, in mock seriousness, and Lance sighed theatrically.

 

“It seems we have a grave situation on our hands, then… for if you eat this awesome treat, you’re sure to perish.” Keith snorted, and Lance took both the powder and cup of sticks from him. “Death, although permanent, is but a small price to pay for the absolute bliss that awaits you. Do as I say, and you’ll never experience any kind of suffering again.” Keith couldn’t keep the smile off his face, and though he wasn’t exactly sure how a stick and some powder would be all that great, the way Lance was handling this amused him.

 

“First,” Lance thrust the cup of sticks under Keith’s nose, “choose your weapon.” Keith plucked a stick from the batch, and Lance nodded. “Now, do as I do.” He set the sticks down on the desk, and lifted the powder in a flourish. Then, he licked a stick and dunked it into the powder.

 

“Oh! I see.” Keith did the same.

 

“Here’s the most critical part,” Lance said, and then shoved the powdered yellow stick into his mouth. Keith did the same.

 

The powder burst in his mouth; the sour taste overwhelming him for a brief moment before the sweetness of the yellow stick soothed the flavor. Keith blinked in surprise.

 

“Wow. Not what I was expecting,” he said, reaching forward again to dunk the stick in the powder. “What is this?”

 

“In short, Fundip,” Lance replied, dropping his act and smiling. “In long, Hunk’s own version of the stuff. It’s super good. Turns your tongue purple,” he added, and showed Keith. Keith laughed.

 

“Holy shit.”

 

“Amazing, right? Hunk is truly a culinary genius.”

 

“For sure,” Keith agreed, dipping the sugary stick once again.

 

They continued on like that for a while, going through two sticks each before they were left only with powder. Keith finished before Lance, chewing the rest of his stick as the other paladin chose to dissolve it. He cleared his throat.

 

“Are you really okay?” Lance paused briefly and looked up, before realizing what Keith was talking about.

 

“Oh. Uh, yeah.”

 

“Good. And uh, sorry. Again.” Keith ducked his head sheepishly.

 

“What I want to know is,” Lance said, talking around the sugar in his mouth, “is why you punched me on the training deck and not last night.” Keith froze.

 

“Oh, uh… that--” Lance suddenly got up from where he was leaning against the desk and began to walk over. 

 

“If I do that again right now, would you punch me?” He stopped right before Keith, and Keith could feel his face coloring.

 

“That’s--you’d definitely be pushing your luck.” Lance leaned down, placing his palms on the arms of the chair.

 

“Is it really luck, though?”

 

Before Keith had time to respond, Lance darted quickly forward. Once again, it was just a chaste kiss, gone as quickly as it had come. Keith’s face was aflame--he stared, dumbstruck, at Lance. 

 

“I guess it isn’t luck, then,” Lance bantered, and Keith blinked.

 

“That’s because you didn’t give me time to react,” Keith huffed, crossing his arms and sinking into the chair.

 

“So you had the time to punch me earlier today?”

 

“Yeah…”

 

“In other words, I just need to do it before you can react.”

 

“That’s not--” He was cut off by another kiss, this one longer than the rest. When they parted again, Lance was about as red as Keith’s jacket, but he smiled.

 

“Uh, so like--I can--I can assume you like me, right?” Keith spluttered at Lance’s confidence and covered a part of his face with his hand, wiping it down his cheek.

 

“You’re--isn’t this like, backwards? Aren’t you supposed to confess to me first, and  _ then  _ I tell you that I like you?” Lance’s smile just grew as Keith blushed deeper.

 

“I mean, anything works, right?” Keith glared lightly at the other paladin before Lance stole another kiss.

 

“Seriously,” Keith said, but the twitch at the corners of his mouth betrayed him.

 

“Okay, fine,” Lance said, looking Keith straight in the eye. “I, uh… like you. A lot,” he added, even as the two of them grew redder by the minute. “Now you have to say it,” Lance said, finally pulling away and bringing a hand to his lips.

 

“Shit.” Keith covered his face with both hands. “I’m--if I do, I’m pretty sure we’re both gonna die.”

 

“Nope, no you don’t, mister--” Lance marched over and pried Keith’s hands away from his face. “I did it, per your request, so now you have to do it.”

 

“But--”

 

“Do it.”

 

“Lance--”

 

“It’ll be less painless when you do.”

 

“I don’t think that’s how it’s gonna work--”

 

“So find out!’

 

“Fine!” Keith shook Lance off of him and stood. “Ilikeyoutoo,” he bit out, about to burst. Lance just smirked.

 

“What?”

 

“Seriously!?”

 

“I couldn’t hear you,” he said, shrugging. Keith groaned.

 

“I’m… I’m going to punch you. In the same spot as before, so your bruise is three times as ugly.” Lance paused for a moment, thinking.

 

“Wait, wouldn’t that be twice as ugly?”

 

“Not if I hit you hard enough to make it three,” Keith remarked, and Lance frowned instantly, taking a step back.

 

“You know, you--sometimes I really can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” he said uncertainly, eyes flicking to Keith’s fists. Keith just gazed innocently back.

 

“Well, do you wanna test it out?” They held each other’s stare for a couple moments, and then burst out laughing.

 

“Sorry, but this is like, the weirdest thing I’ve ever done,” Lance said, and Keith nodded in agreement.

 

“Okay, but for real… I do, y’know, like you.” His face colored again. Lance smiled. 

 

“Aww, Keithy-boy, I’m so flattered--”

 

“Even if you are a dick,” Keith added suddenly, smacking the other boy lightly in the arm, then turning to leave.

 

“Ow! Hey!” Lance pursued him out the door. “Wait, we just confessed our undying love, there’s only one thing to do now!” Keith turned around in the hall, then, and gave him a look.

 

“What?”

 

“Yes Lance, what?” Shiro suddenly loomed from behind Keith, Allura exiting the door behind him. Lance and Keith froze, at a loss for words, but then Lance held up the Fundip powder.

 

“Uh, get more of Hunk’s Fundip, of course!” He then took Keith by the wrist and dragged him towards the kitchen. Shiro gave Keith a devilish grin as they left, and Keith groaned. “I swear, Shiro has like a 6th sense or something.”

 

“That’s his ‘brotherly’ sense,” Keith muttered, sighing.

 

“Anyway it’s fine, because I really did want more Fundip.” Lance turned back to Keith and let go, letting the other boy catch up. As soon as he did, Lance twined their fingers together. “I think we need to tell Allura about more holidays,” he said, as the door to the kitchen slid open.

 

“Absolutely  _ not!”  _ Pidge shouted, slamming their hands on the table and glaring up at Keith. “It might be all fine and dandy for you guys, and although I love giving presents very much, I hate any kind of this,” they said emphasizing this as they gestured to Keith and Lance.

 

“Congratulations,” Hunk said, handing Lance and Keith another sugar stick.

 

“Thanks, buddy,” Lance said, smiling at Hunk. He heard a loud crunch beside him, and turned to find Keith biting into the sugar stick without any powder. “Hey! You heathen, what do you think you’re doing!?”

 

“Uh? Eating the Fundip?”

 

“You can’t eat it without the dip!”

 

“Why not? It’s still ‘Fun,’ anyway, right?”

 

“Let the boy be, Lance,” Hunk chimed, and Pidge shook their head.

 

“Glad to see they’re still themselves,” they muttered, continuing to tack away on their laptop. Hunk smiled.

 

“Well I, for one, am thankful they atleast resolved the tension between them,” he whispered, and Pidge nodded.

 

“Amen to that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh, I'm really sorry about the lack of timely posting... in all honesty this has been mostly done for about 3 months now. I just needed to add the last bit.
> 
> Hopefully it doesn't feel rushed and have too many errors/typos? I don't have a beta reader and I didn't go back and edit. So there's probably a ton wrong with it. In any case, this turned out to be a lot longer than intended, so enjoy!


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